Peaberry
by Ellarose C
Summary: US/UK. "All my days are rearranged to say I love you." Written for the fanworkathon at the usxuk community, prompt "Coffeeshop!AU: America, England, and first meetings."


It started with a casual, accidental bump to the shoulder while Arthur was waiting in line to get his morning ginger tea.

"Oh, sorry, man, didn't see you there."

Arthur smiled faintly over his shoulder at his assailant – tall, blond, sweating, hair damp and light blue vest stained at the neck and underarms from frequent abuse, iPod Velcroed to his arm. He was beaming at him.

* * *

><p><em>-The next time they see each other it's no coincidence – Alfred sits down at his table, nods, offers an informally American greeting, and opens his laptop before Arthur can object – they stay there for hours under the leaning branches of the avocado tree, barely talking but relaxed-<em>

* * *

><p>"Quite all right," Arthur replied brusquely, turning back to contemplate the pastries in the glass display.<p>

"I've never seen you 'round here before," the other man continued, persistently dragging on this conversation with a stranger. "You just visitin'?"

* * *

><p><em>-It becomes a pattern for them – an hour or two working across from each other, Victoria keeping a continuous stream of tea and coffee in their cups, not saying much but comfortable in the company<em>-

* * *

><p>Arthur sighed, resigning himself to this pushy local for the time being. "Actually, I'm renting the house down the road for the winter."<p>

This new stranger's eyes lit up with recognition and amusement. "Oh, so you're _that_ guy!"

* * *

><p>-<em>Then one day Alfred finally catches Mr. Palakiko's eye and waves him over, and Arthur finds out that his landlord knows more Hawai'ian mythology than many professionals – he mentions an important location across the island, Alfred offers to take him there after lunch-<em>

* * *

><p>Arthur bristled. "I <em>beg<em> your pardon."

* * *

><p><em>-He almost turns tail when Alfred pulls up to his front door and hands him the extra helmet to what Arthur instantly labels the 'donorcycle', a red and black Harley, but work wins out – <em>Hold on tight_, he's told, and he almost protests until they're off – he clings for dear life, takes in the old leather and ocean salt and wild laughter-_

* * *

><p>He laughed carelessly. "Yeah, Vicky was tellin' me how you almost burned the place down yesterday-"<p>

"Well I _never_-"

* * *

><p><em>-Alfred shows him his island, piece by piece, starting with museums, tourist traps, folklore, but quickly defaulting to his favorite spots with the best views-<em>

* * *

><p>The East Indian waitress, engaged to the son behind the counter, slapped the stranger's arm as she walked by. She frowned as she scolded, "For the <em>last<em> time, it's _Victoria_ – unless you want me to call you _Alfie_."

The stranger shuddered. "Ugh, no way. Alfred's fine, thanks very much." She smirked and flounced away, pigtails swinging. "Alfred Jones, by the way," he said to Arthur with another wide grin.

* * *

><p>-<em>One night they stop to watch the sun set and the stars come out on an isolated cup of beach on the north side of the island, sand in their hair as they tell each other constellations and love myths – Arthur rolls over, hands braced on either side of Alfred, and just <em>looks_ at him – Alfred reaches up, and they fall in-_

* * *

><p>Arthur gave in once more to the enthusiastic stranger – Alfred, not stranger. "Arthur Kirkland," he responded. They didn't shake hands; they just stepped forward as the line moved on.<p>

* * *

><p>-<em>And it goes from there, mornings working, afternoons exploring, and nights together – Alfred is welcomed into Arthur and his duplex neighbor's weekend barbeque on the shared back porch – the neighbor, Jake, is an Australian marine biologist, it's what he does – Arthur joins Alfred and his three housemates' always interesting Fridays out on what town there is on the big island, only feeling out of place when he's reminded that he's the oldest one in the room, but not by as much as he feared-<em>

* * *

><p>"So, what're ya here for, Art?" Alfred asked, all wide-eyed curiosity and good intent.<p>

Arthur cringed at the instant nickname. "Please, Arthur. I'm on sabbatical."

Alfred somehow remained interested. "Really? What from?"

* * *

><p><em>-Once, they curl up in a blanket on Arthur's couch as one of the vicious squalls that blow in from the ocean from time to time beats against the windows, watching lightning hit the waves miles out to sea-<em>

* * *

><p>"University of Chicago." He looked away at the pastries again. "I teach Celtic mythology." Arthur could feel the raised eyebrows and skeptical smirk trained on him and fought a blush, glaring at Alfred instead. "Don't look at me like that, I've got tenure!"<p>

* * *

><p><em>-Sometimes they go hiking – up Mauna Kea, around the Caldera, in the jungles of Hilo – and that is where Arthur really absorbs his sabbatical's topic-<em>

* * *

><p>And that made Alfred laugh, which made Arthur smile. "Needed to get away, I'm guessing."<p>

Arthur shrugged. "This's the last place my family would look." He was finally at the front of the line. He nodded at Martin, the owners' son. "Ginger tea, if you would."

* * *

><p><em>-One sunset they trek over sharp lavarock – Alfred calls it 'pahoehoe' – with other spectators to see the lava, always quietly spilling from Kilauea, gurgle into the ocean, brilliant orange against the black rock and water – they take a video on Alfred's camera, but it's not nearly the same-<em>

* * *

><p>Alfred is scandalized. "What? <em>Tea<em>? But this is the best coffee on the whole island!"

"Yes, I'm quite sure tea is fine-"

"Martin, scratch that, two coffees and a bagel," Alfred ordered over him. The boy behind the counter grinned, and Arthur's eyes narrowed.

* * *

><p><em>-They're joined by Mr. Palakiko frequently now, not just for Arthur to grill him about his passion, but vice versa – Arthur spends at least a week of mornings lecturing on the difference between Celtic and Gaelic, his paper sitting untouched on his laptop-<em>

* * *

><p>"Right on it, Al," the boy said.<p>

"You treacherous little snake-"

* * *

><p><em>-The sex is more heart-poundingly glorious than Arthur had hoped for-<em>

* * *

><p>Martin rang up the order, sticking the receipt between the register and a lump of black, scratchy rock without getting any money from Alfred. Arthur raised his eyebrows.<p>

"Do you have a tab at a _coffeeshop_?" Arthur asked as they stepped out of line.

* * *

><p><em>-On a Sunday in late March when Jake is scuba deep in sea turtles, Alfred holds Arthur in his lap as the coffee trees shed small petals around them, and he realises he's had a whirlwind summer romance while it snowed in his hometown-<em>

* * *

><p>Alfred nodded and explained as he led him out of the building to the back patio looking over the mountain down into the ocean, "I live just up the mountain, and it's annoying to carry money around when I'm running. C'mon, sit and tell me 'bout yourself," he invited, gesturing to the cheap plastic chair across from him.<p>

* * *

><p><em>-<em>I love you_, Alfred says, twirling a white-and-yellow plumeria blossom between his fingers – Arthur's throat closes up and he tucks the flower behind Arthur's ear, bends in to sniff it – Arthur clutches his neck and kisses him instead-_

* * *

><p>Arthur scowled, but sat down and crossed his arms defensively. "You first."<p>

Alfred blinked, then laughed. "Sure, sure. I'm a programmer for the Navy – Lieutenant Jones, at your service – and I'm stationed over here with the other lieutenant in the comp sci hierarchy – he's my roommate too, long story. I'd tell you more 'bout what we do, but then I'd have to kill you," he said with a wink. Victoria came over with their coffee and Alfred's bagel, flouncing off without a work besides a scoff at Alfred's wink, bright blue sarong whipping around her legs.

* * *

><p><em>-It's another muggy morning, just another morning, when Arthur sits back in his cheap chair, sighing in relief, a little stunned – <em>I'm done_, he says, and Alfred can't decide what to think-_

* * *

><p>Alfred spread grape jelly on half his bagel and took an overhealthy bite. "So whash your excushe?" he asked, crumbs flying across the table.<p>

Arthur stirred a spoon in his coffee without actually putting anything in it. "The board have me six months for a pet project of mine – a paper comparing island mythologies around the world," he answered. He smirked at the table. "Truthfully, I think they needed a break from me as much I did from them."

* * *

><p><em>-They go to their beach to say goodbye; it's better this way; it's better no one hears the screaming, or sees the desperate clinging afterward-<em>

* * *

><p>Alfred chuckled. "I won't ask. Go on, try it, before it gets cold," he said, gesturing to the cup of coffee with his bagel. Arthur grimaced, but took a quick sip. Alfred was watching carefully for his reaction, so he was equally careful not to betray his pleasant surprise.<p>

"I think I still prefer tea," he lied, setting the cup down carefully.

* * *

><p><em>-One of Alfred's housemates, a large Middle Eastern man named Sadik, drives him to the airport – Jake left a month ago, and the other half of the duplex is still unleashed – Arthur stares out the window, sighs, but says nothing to him beyond 'thank you' – Sadik frowns when he's not looking, not looking forward to Alfred's inevitable moping-<em>

* * *

><p>Alfred's face fell slightly, but he recovered well, eating the rest of his bagel in one bite and washing it down with half his coffee. "So how long you been on the big island?"<p>

"Just over a week, although this is the first time I've been able to come up here for breakfast," Arthur replied, back to his habitual stirring.

"Jet lag, or touring?"

"Little bit of both." Arthur watched in distaste as Alfred ate messily, jelly on his chin.

* * *

><p>-<em>He calls him when he touches down in Chicago – It's early, too early, in Hawai'i, but Alfred answers anyway – Arthur clings to the phone, but doesn't let himself say 'I love you', they promised each other-<em>

* * *

><p>Alfred finished before the steam stopped rising from Arthur's barely touched coffee, and he stood. "Well, it was nice meetin' ya, Art, but I really need a shower, I'm gross," he said with one of his wide grins, putting his plate and cup on Victoria's tray as she walked by. She wrinkled her nose, but didn't say anything again. "I'll be seein' ya around, I suppose." He flicked two fingers out from his forehead in a salute, then walked back through the patio to the main building, whistling.<p>

Arthur watched him go, then picked his coffee back up when he was out of sight.

* * *

><p>-<em>They keep in touch. They find it impossible not to.-<em>

* * *

><p>{AN: Oh hai there! Now that I've effectively mindfucked you, I'll let you know that this was written for the Fanworkathon over on the usxuk community on livejournal. My prompt was "Coffeeshop!AU: America, England, and first meetings."

No I'm not going to tell you what happened. I didn't tell you for a reason. It's for you to decide. :)

Peace out}


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